


Wake you up like sunrise

by lesbianbean



Series: you want the world/well what's it worth? [11]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, American Politics, Arguing, F/F, Femslash February, Gratuitous Poetry Usage, Office Sex, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Rule 63, Snow, Valentine's Day, power struggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 08:08:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17956817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianbean/pseuds/lesbianbean
Summary: It's February. It's snowing. And the majority leader and her chief of staff are alone in her office.





	Wake you up like sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on an incredibly gorgeous piece of art by @virtual_nemesis please look at it.  
> https://twitter.com/virtual_nemesis/status/1096000255634530305

It had been a long day, the majority leader thought, as she stretched out on her office couch, closing her eyes. Even for Washington. But now, for at least a little while, it was quiet. Snow was falling outside her office window. The light filtering through her curtains was a soft purple, and the tiny shadows of the snowflakes made different patterns on her antique carpet. She missed the weather in her home state but, although she wouldn’t admit it to anyone but herself, the snow had grown on her after the years she’d spent in DC.

Megatron allowed herself to half-drift off, enjoying the silence, when Starscream clicked into her office, throwing her phone on the senator’s desk with a clatter.

“Great news, your worship. The Secretary of Defense is still stonewalling me.”

“Do you really think she’s still in her office at eleven-thirty?”

“I’ve been calling her every hour, on the hour.”

“That’s your problem. She knows when to not be in her office. Mix it up a little. ”

Starscream rolled her eyes. “That’s your best advice?”

“For the moment.”

“Thanks. I hate it.”

Megatron watched  her chief of staff angrily unbuttoning her tight blue-and-white blouse, raising her eyebrows. Even after two days on barely any sleep, the girl still vibrated with nervous energy, like a hate-filled perpetual motion machine.  “Is it too hot in here?”

“I fucking hate this blouse”

“You should. You look like a sailor.”

Starscream balled up the blouse and threw it at her. “I hate you.”

Megatron batted it away easily. “I know.”

Her chief of staff glanced over at her phone and huffed in exasperation. “Tomorrow I’m going to kick down her office door, I swear.” She stormed over to the couch. Megatron grumbled a bit but moved to accommodate her.

“Your hands are cold,” she informed Starscream as the younger woman practically laid on top of her and then nearly elbowed her in the face when she went to adjust the strap of her tank top. She briefly debated shoving her off the couch, but because she was feeling generous, she pulled the knitted afghan further over both of them instead.

“I’m never putting that blouse back on. The tag on it has been cutting into my neck all fucking day.” Megatron reached over to trace the mark where the tag had been, and her chief of staff shivered, swatting her hand away.

Starscream was heavy on top of her, and she smelled like the expensive perfume she always wore. Normally Megatron disliked the obvious symbols of wealth and status that were so common in Washington, but a secret part of herself she didn’t acknowledge most of the time enjoyed the younger woman’s perfume, just as she enjoyed the snow. And it was late, and quiet, so she didn’t bother to push that part of herself down.

“It’s still snowing.”

“Yeah,” Starscream shuddered and turned to look out the window. She wondered why Starscream disliked snow so much, although it wasn’t really surprising. Her chief of staff seemed to hate most things. “It sure is. Any chance you’ll give us the day off tomorrow?”

“The majority leader’s office doesn’t take snow days, princess.”

“God, you’re uptight.” Starscream rolled her eyes. The ancient clock Megatron had been given as a gift years ago chimed and she jumped, annoyed. “Please get rid of that thing. Let me sell it online. We can split the profits.”

“You can’t sell gifts made to elected representatives online, Starscream. It’s illegal.”

“Oh, so blackmailing people and fabricating testimony is fine but selling a piece of shit antique clock online is _illegal_?”

“They’re different kinds of illegal.”

Starscream laughed. “You’re so attached to to the damn thing and it doesn’t even work. It just chimes when it feels like chiming.”

“If you had bothered to learn, you’d know it was fifteen minutes to midnight.”

“You’re making that up.”

“Look at my watch, it’s on the desk.”

“No.”

“If you won’t acknowledge facts, you’ll never be able to win a debate.”

“I could always just kill the other person. Then I’d win by default.”

Megatron bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t smile. _That’s my girl_.

Starscream propped herself up on her elbow, watching her face. “What are you thinking?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a weird look on your face.” Megatron reached out and stroked Starscream’s cheek without answering, wondering if the girl would bat her hand away again, but she didn’t. Instead, she leaned just slightly into the contact, her eyes half-closing. Starscream never made eye contact when she was embarrassed.

“You’re not answering my question.”

Megatron cleared her throat, watching the steady buildup of flakes.

“ _Among twenty snowy mountains,_

_The only moving thing_

_Was the eye of the blackbird._ ”

Starscream snorted. “Poetry doesn’t count as an answer.”

“You wanted to know what I was thinking. That’s what I was thinking.”

“You're _always_ thinking about poetry. It’s disgusting.”

“Wallace Stevens was a visionary.”

“He’s an old white guy. I thought you hated old white guys.”

“There’s a difference between theory and praxis, princess.”

Her chief of staff huffed, adjusting the strap of her tank top again. “You’re not going to get me horny for Stevens and his fucking blackbirds.”

Megatron smirked, and Starscream’s eyes widened slightly, like a deer in the headlights. “Is that a challenge?”

“It could be. If you’re up for it.”

Megatron wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and pressed a slow kiss to the soft place where Starscream’s neck met her jaw, thinking of the way the girl brushed perfume over the spot with her slender fingers.

“ _I was of three minds_ ,” she murmured, her lips brushing over the spot, reaching up with her other hand to tug her hair back and expose more of her pretty throat. “ _Like a tree in which there are three blackbirds.”_

Starscream let out a shaky breath. “I don’t even know what that means. He’s just being pretentious.”

“You’re smarter than that, princess.” She pulled Starscream closer, reaching under her tank top to trace the tattoo on her hip, and then kissed lower on her throat, where she could see her pulse beating under her dark skin. “ _The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of the pantomime._ ” She nipped at the spot, relishing the girl’s sharp intake of breath.

“H-how long is this fucking poem anyway?”

Megatron felt the satisfaction that only came when she knew she had her chief of staff exactly where she wanted her. “It’s called _Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird.”_

“Oh. Thirteen?”

She chuckled, moving her hand lower, past Starscream’s waistband. There was already a damp patch on the satiny fabric, and she brushed her fingers against it, and Starscream made a barely-audible noise.

“You like that?” Starscream bit her lip, and Megatron moved further, stroking, teasing.

“ _A woman and a woman_.” She paused, kissing Starscream’s collarbone. “ _Are one. A woman and a woman and a blackbird are one_.”

Starscream laughed breathily, her hands trembling on Megatron’s chest. “You’re making that up.”

“I may be...embellishing, but not much. You know, the book is on my desk. I could show you--” She half-sat up, and Starscream grabbed her wrist, glaring at her.

“Don’t--don’t you _dare_ stop, you absolute--”

Megatron hummed disapprovingly, watching Starscream carefully, wanting to memorize every expression. “ _Manners_ , princess.”

Starscream squeezed her eyes shut. “M-Megatron.”

She stroked her chief of staff’s hair, and Starscream stared down at her. “Tell me you like the poem.”

“I hate you.”

Megatron crooked her finger and Starscream gasped. “Tell me.”

“I--”

 _"I do not know which to prefer,_ ” She punctuated each word with a kiss, listening to the hummingbird beat of Starscream’s heart. 

_“The beauty of inflections_

_Or the beauty of innuendoes,_

_The blackbird whistling_

_Or just after_.”

“Fine!”

“Fine what?”

“Fine, I like your stupid fucking poem.”

“That’s my good girl.” Megatron kissed her, really kissed her, and Starscream kissed back, biting her lower lip almost hard enough to break the skin. “Relax, princess,” she whispered when they broke apart. “We still have six stanzas to go.” Starscream whimpered and she wished she could preserve the noise in amber and keep it somewhere close to her forever.

* * *

The clock chimed, and Starscream lifted her head off her chest, glaring at it. “What time is it now?”

“One-thirty. It’s tomorrow.”

“The fourteenth, right?”  
“Yes.” She thought about making a sarcastic comment about how Starscream never knew what time it was, but something about the look on the girl’s face stopped her. “What are you thinking, princess?”

“ _Darling,_ ” Starscream purred sarcastically. _“_ Won’t you be my Valentine?”

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a link to the whole poem, which I love.  
> https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45236/thirteen-ways-of-looking-at-a-blackbird  
> It's the last day of February but it's before midnight so it still counts.


End file.
